We walked and I gaped. I’m sure I stuck out like a greenhorn tourist (not that I’m not). A jewelry store displaying sparkling diamonds drew my attention. I leaned in for a closer look and banged my forehead on the window. Ouch. The glass was solid as a brick wall and felt as thick. The interior lights bright, the glass gave the impression of absence. I felt stupid and hoped no-one had noticed. Why would anyone notice? There were all sorts of more interesting people around with bigger things on their minds. I couldn’t believe how young the fashionably-dressed, Asian women hanging on to boyfriends’ or husbands’ arms were. No shortage of Daddy’s money. Sigh. I don’t know why I assumed they weren’t young marrieds, but who knows?
Posted by: ConnectedTraveler
One last look: Night Pictures in Macau
Worn out by all the excitement of our new day, a bed and pillow beckoned soon after supper. Before turning in, I noted another bathroom story. While I ran the sink tap, it didn’t sound right. I turned off the water; I turned it on again. The bathtub drain gurgled up water. I could not hear water going down the sink drain. Let me explain the layout. The foot of the tub was tucked lengthwise into the left corner and the sink and cabinet were perpendicular at the foot, like an upside-down L, the tub being the long end. A glass-doored shower shared a wall with the faucet end of the tub. Would you call that fancy plumbing? I can’t figure it out either. The biggest hotel in the world. Hm.
When I asked Sue about it, she hadn’t noticed the situation but wondered why the tub was wet with water, which neither of us had used yet. Nice. What’s the reason North American hotels don’t have a 13th floor? Oh! It’s not because of the plumbing?
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Wakeup call buzzed at 7:30 a.m., on Saturday, Day 22. Luggage had to be downstairs near the reception area by 8:15. Sue and I weren’t comfortable with this as a zillion people moved in and out around the nearby elevators and the casino. The bellboy assured us he’d stand guard until our suitcases were transferred to the bus.
Steam coming out of the chimneys early morning before leaving for H.K.
Upon arrival at the ferry terminal, we lined up and were given numbered tickets. We had to fill out Hong Kong immigration forms while on board the Cotal Jet Ferry. It was a deep blue fearsome machine and looked like an army tank on water. Walking past, at about a third of its length, I changed my mind. It looked more like a plane. Inside the layout wasn’t unlike an airplane: 3-seat rows x 18 seats long x 5 sections across (270 passengers from my rough count). The ride was smooth as silk; quiet as a hydrofoil, but that’s my guesswork. I’ve never had the experience before.
Our ticket said next departure at 10:30, but it felt like hours before we finally were allowed inside and took off. The trip took about an hour. Water sprayed the ferry as we flew across the black water into the misty weather.
Muted T.V. screens were turned on in front of every row. The seats were supplied with belts no-one used. If there were rules, I saw no signs, nor did anyone come around to suggest the necessity of their use.
Upon arrival, we passed through roped off aisles with a zillion other people. I considered the process would take forever. I was wrong. After the experience in Macau, everything was so Chinese and foreign again. We craned our necks and gawked at expensive wines on display before the exit, but there was no opportunity or invitation to buy any at the duty-free.
Next on December 29: Hong Kong. Hang On! (with lots of pictures)
© 2017 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles
FYI: This is a re-blog of the best parts of my trip in 2014
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I am currently on an unplanned sabbatical. I hope to return but when is the question. Thank you for your supportive reading, reblogging, and tweeting. I DO appreciate your kind and continued follows far beyond my inadequate words.